


Fool Me Once

by Celticas



Series: Trope Bingo [17]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: CC Trope Bingo, M/M, Mob AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:22:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26282599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celticas/pseuds/Celticas
Summary: Phil was ordered to 'Handle' Hawkeye and Widow. For the first time in his life he isn't sure if he can follow an order.
Relationships: clint barton/ phil coulson
Series: Trope Bingo [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1518110
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	Fool Me Once

Fury sat behind his desk. The African Blackwood polished to a mirror finish. It was a behemoth of a piece of furniture, the simple lines unencumbered by carvings or decoration. To most it was an intimidating centrepiece of the room, only overshadowed by the man behind the desk. To Phil it was a joke that no one else got. 

“Cheese?” Fury asked, demanded really. Making sure his right-hand man had heard the orders he had been given.

Phil hadn’t, not consciously, but with a few seconds of thought, he would be able to replay the words and know what was expected of him…

“Yes, sir. Hawkeye and Widow have become a problem.”

“Handle them. Or I will.” The threat was clear and unmistakable.

It wasn’t as easy as all of that. The problematic duo had only been flies on their rump until three months ago when they had joined the Reds, giving the other family enough confidence to make a move on Fury. The difficult part came in the form of none of them having any idea who they were looking for.

Sending out his people, Phil left them to their work and headed home. The tv was on and the minuscule apartment smelt of fresh bread and melted cheese.

“Hey hon.” Clint dropped a kiss on his cheek as he darted past. Without stopping for a better greeting he continued past into the bedroom. “Sorry. I made us dinner, the soup will be ready in about fifteen, but I got called into work.” He reappeared, pulling a jacket on. “Should only be an hour, but might be more.” He graced Phil with a second kiss, this one much more involved than the first one.

“Oh. Okay.” Phil couldn’t really complain about his boyfriends hours, often his weren’t any better and he didn’t feel like being called a hypocrite. That didn’t mean he wasn’t upset that their night had been interrupted. “Be safe.”

“Love you.” And he was gone. Leaving Phil blinking in his wake, that had been the first confession of love and he had thrown it out so easily. Unthinkingly.

= + =

Clint glared at Natasha. He didn’t need to be here. The boss didn’t need him. He should have been at home with Phil and their anniversary dinner.

“Shit.” He breathed finally realising what his parting words had been as he ran out the door.

“What?” Natasha scowled across at him, already sick of his whining.

“Nothing.” He wasn’t going to let her in on his most recent moment of idiocracy.

“Then shut up.”

“Okay.” He grinned, knowing the single word would rub her up the wrong way even worse than his whining.

= + =

Phil’s phone trilled on the bedside table. The sound loud enough to wake him if he was asleep but not wake Clint. If the other man had been home, he would have slipped out of bed to check the incoming message in the other room to keep the light from the screen waking him. But he was alone in bed. Half the sheets still cold.

_ >> Targets sighted. West Way Navy Yard _

Of course it was May. Melinda could always be counted on to get the job done. 

_ Keep eyes on<< _

He was dressed by the time the swoop sound of the message going through rang through the otherwise silent apartment. There wasn’t anyone left to hear the door slam.

= + =

“There.” Melinda pointed.

Phil could just see the slight bumps of shadow that was two people on the opposite roof. Waiting he saw one shift and the glint of light off the glass of a scope. 

“Keep an eye on them.” Handing over an earpiece, he left her there. 

Skittering across the dark spaces, rounding the building he was able to get onto the roof without May barking at him that he had startled their prey. Pistol in hand, he raised his arm and let the cocking of his gun speak for him.

The smaller of the two figures spun around, dull metal of her own pistol barely reflecting any light as she leveled it at his heart.

“Coulson?” She stepped further into the light, Clint’s best friend’s face appearing behind the weapon still pointed at him.

“Natasha?”

The larger figure spun around, “Phil?”

= + =

“I can’t.” Phil slammed into Fury’s office. The door cracking against the wall.

“Out.” His boss ordered an underling Phil didn’t know. “Can’t what?” Threat laced every letter of the two words. The only option aside from success of pain.

“Hawkeye and Widow. Nick. It’s Clint.” He dropped into the uncomfortable visitor’s chair.

Fury transformed from mafia don to Phil’s high school mentor. His friend. “You don’t have a choice Cheese. I’m sorry”

Phil had his orders and knew the consequences of refusal or disobedience. 

= + =

Phil wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. If he had thought about it, he would have said Clint would be halfway out of the country by now. He wouldn’t have guessed he would find Clint pacing their living room, shoes and jacket off.

“Phil.” Clint stopped pacing as Phil shut the door behind himself.

Carefully making sure the door was latched but not locked at his back.

“Clint.”

“So...How was your night?” He was cringing before he had even finished. “God. Sorry. Um…”

That was the Clint Phil knew and loved. Because he did, love him. And he wouldn’t kill the man he loved. 

“I love you.”

Clint looked up from where he had buried his face in his hands. “You do?” He asked before hurrying on. “Because I do too. I told you that. And then left. That wasn’t fair. Sorry.”

He was rambling. He was as off-footed as Phil was feeling.

“So, not a security analyst?” Clint said, not really asking.

“Not really a bodyguard.” Phil shot back. Annoyed suddenly. He wasn’t the only one who had been lying. “I’ve been told to handle you. Join. Move to Fury. You have both always been freelance.”

“Okay.” Clint breathed before crashing into him. Lips meeting.


End file.
